Chapter Twenty-Five
Gretchen
The party in the dining room goes on long after Kirk and I hurry back to his flat.
Mom and Dad were having such a good time with all the Scots, and some Brits too, that we sneaked out.
But we told my parents first so they wouldn't worry we'd been kidnapped.
Honestly, I'm not so sure kidnapping is off the list of things that might happen to me and Kirk.
There's Dougal MacWraith, after all. He gives me shivers every time I see him. And his voice...it could turn water into ice.
Kirk's warm, strong arms wrap around me as he nuzzles my neck. "What are ye thinking, gràidh? You seem pensive."
"Yeah, I am." I twist my head around to look up at him. "Doesn't it worry you that Dougal is out there plotting who knows what?"
"Not particularly. All he's really done is act like a raging erse, then walk away."
"An 'erse' who broke into your bedroom while we were sleeping," I remind him. "That's not normal behavior, Kirk. It's serial killer territory."
Kirk sighs, his exhalation fluttering my hair. "Dougal is many things---ruthless, cruel, contemptible---but he's no murderer. MacWraith is a businessman of sorts, albeit one with no ethics and dirty tactics."
I huff. "Are you serious? He's a menace. And he creeps me out too."
"Gretchen, you're overreacting. Dougal wants me, not you."
"And that's supposed to make me feel safer?" I jab my elbow into his midsection, though not hard enough to hurt him. "Tell me the truth, Kirk. How much trouble are we in?"
Kirk's expression shifts, and I catch a flicker of something---worry, maybe?---before his casual mask slides back into place. He's too good at hiding his true feelings.
"Dougal is dangerous, aye, but he's the calculating sort.
He never acts without purpose." Kirk guides me to the sofa and sits beside me with our thighs touching.
"What happened with Kenny was my fault. The lad got in over his head with gambling debts, and I stepped in.
Made a deal with MacWraith to clear Kenny's slate. "
"You've already told me about that."
"And I'm not done telling you about it." Kirk slumps against the sofa. "There's more to the situation than I let on."
It's about time he came clean about whatever mess he's in with Dougal. My pulse quickens as I prepare for the worst.
"Kenny isn't just some random lad," Kirk continues, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's my godson. His father was my best mate in school before he passed away five years ago. I promised I'd look after the boy."
"Oh." The single syllable feels inadequate, but I'm not sure what else to say. This changes things---not the danger, but the context. "So when he got in trouble...I couldnae let him suffer. MacWraith had him by the throat financially."
"But I still don't understand why you made that deal in the first place. What hold does Dougal have over you that made you agree to his terms?"
Kirk's jaw tightens, and I watch the muscles in his face shift beneath his stubble. "Kenny's just a lad. Barely twenty-one. His mother died last year. I've known him since he was in nappies."
"So, you're like a big brother to him."
"Aye, something like that." Kirk admits. "Kenny started gambling to cope with his grief. Got in deep with Dougal's underground operation before anyone realized what was happening."
I clasp Kirk's hand, lacing my fingers through his. His palm feels rough against mine. "How do we get away from Dougal?"
"Cannae. He's not just one man. He has his entire clan on his side. I've never found the seat of the MacWraith clan, so I've never been able to catch any of them and make them talk."
"What about all those burly Scots I met at the Loch Fairbairn Arms earlier? Surely, they can help us."
Kirk pulls away abruptly, his jaw tight. "The way I've put you in danger is bad enough. To entangle you and all of them as well...I cannae do it. Willnae."
He's too damn stubborn, and I don't know him well enough to force him to do anything. Still, we can't just wait for Dougal MacWraith to pounce.
"Kirk, please, let's at least tell Thane about what's going on." I reach for his hand again. "I saw how he commands respect around here. He might know something that could help."
Kirk shakes his head. "Thane is a businessman with a family to protect. I won't put him in MacWraith's crosshairs."
"Then what about your brothers? They seem like they'd walk through fire for you."
"And that's exactly why I can't involve them." His voice has become almost a growl. "Dougal wouldn't hesitate to use them as leverage. The fewer people who know, the safer everyone stays."
I flatten my lips, frustration building inside me like steam in a pressure cooker. For a man who jumps off buildings and rides motorcycles over rivers, Kirk is being infuriatingly cautious about confronting Dougal directly.
"Ugh, Balfour," I flap my arms in frustration. "You're the most frustrating man, frustrating person, I've ever met. You know that?"
"I've been told," he admits with a hint of that roguish smile that usually melts my resolve. Not this time.
I grip his forearms, tugging me a smidgen closer. "I understand wanting to protect everyone. It's noble and all that, but it's also stupid. You are not a lone wolf in some action movie, Kirk. Real people don't win against organized crime by themselves."
He stares at me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretches between us until I start to wonder if I've pushed too hard.
"You're right," he finally admits, surprising me. "But ahmno dragging innocent people into this."
"Not innocent people. People who care about you. There's a difference." I squeeze his arms. "At least consider it. Promise me."
"I'll think about it." His face tells me he's already made up his mind. "That's all I can promise right now."
I sigh heavily. Men and their stubborn pride. Maybe it's universal, or maybe Scottish men have an extra helping of it. Either way, it's maddening.
"Fine, okay. I'll take what I can get." I flop back against the cushions. "But just so you know, if something happens to you because you were too stubborn to ask for help, I'll never forgive you."
Kirk delicately taps my nose. "Nothing's going to happen to me, mo leannan. I've survived worse situations."
"Have you, though? Because breaking into someone's bedroom while they're sleeping is pretty high on the creepy scale."
The stubborn Scot pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his lips to my forehead. The gesture is so tender, so protective, it makes my chest ache. "MacWraith wants to scare us, lass. It's what he does best. But I promise you this---I will never let anything happen to you."
"That's not what I'm worried about. I don't want you to go all heroic and get yourself shot to pieces."
A soft laugh rumbles in Kirk's chest. "I'm too stubborn to die."
"And too stubborn to accept help," I counter, pulling back to look him in the eye. "Promise me one thing---if things get worse, you'll at least consider letting your family know what's happening."
He hesitates, then gives me a reluctant nod. "If things get worse, aye."
It's not much, but it's something. I lean forward and kiss him, letting my lips linger on his. The warmth of his mouth is both comforting and distracting, exactly what we both need right now. This man can soothe and annoy me simultaneously, which seems impossible, but it's true.
"All right," I tell him when we finally peel our lips apart, "what's the plan for tonight's stunt? The one with the explosives and blindfold that I'm definitely still freaking out about?"
Kirk's expression brightens immediately. Give this man a death-defying challenge and he's like a kid on Christmas morning.
"We need to leave in an hour," he says, checking his watch. "The crew will be setting up the pyrotechnics while there's still daylight, but the actual stunt happens after sunset."
"And you're sure this is safe?" I can't help asking again. "Like, actually safe and not just Kirk Balfour safe, which I'm learning is a completely different definition of the word 'safe.'"
Kirk gently kisses me, then rubs his thumb over my lips. "It's as safe as any stunt can be. I've practiced the route, memorized every ledge and foothold. The explosives are only for show---they'll be far enough away that I won't feel more than a blast of hot air."
"And the blindfold?"
"It comes off after the first section." He hugs me closer, his hands settling on my hips. "Trust me, Gretchen. Please, mo leannan, trust me."
I would love to argue, to make him promise to cancel the whole thing, but I can see the excitement in his eyes.
This is who he is, the man who leaps without looking, who lives for the rush of adrenaline and who finds freedom in the face of danger.
It's as much a part of him as his accent or his insufferable stubbornness.
I reluctantly surrender to the inevitable. "Okay, but I'm going to be there watching, and if anything goes wrong---anything at all---I'm calling in every emergency service in Scotland."
He grins in the cutest way with his cheeks dimpled. "I wouldn't expect anything else, mo leannan."
If he dies tonight...I can't even think about that.